Page 117 of Finding Kenna
Yup, she definitely liked this side of him. “Then stop turning me on,” she complained.
He smiled then, and she sighed in contentment when his free hand came up to her neck. “I love you,” he whispered. “So damn much.”
“I love you too,” she returned.
They were quiet for a long while, basking in contentment and love.
Marshall’s hand on her neck eventually relaxed as he fell asleep. Kenna wasn’t sure he’d really meant it when he’d suggested a nap. He must’ve been a bit stressed, telling her about moving.
She wasn’t tired in the least but loved lying on top of her man as he dozed. He’d wake up soon enough and do exactly as he promised. He was a man of his word, and it was one of a million things she loved about him. She’d stopped looking for his faults. He had them, there was no doubt, but she also knew they’d seem inconsequential compared to all his positive qualities.
Kenna stared out the window at the fluffy clouds and blue sky. The sun would set in thirty minutes or so…and she couldn’t help but think about how different the weather was two weeks ago. On that night. If there hadn’t been a storm raging, she didn’t want to think about how different the outcome might’ve been. While the rain and wind had been scary, it had also saved her life. And Marshall’s.
“Kenna. You aren’t napping,” Marshall muttered as his hand tightened once more on her nape.
“Sorry,” she whispered, not sorry in the least.
“You’re gonna need your sleep,” he warned.
“Okay, okay, I’m closing my eyes,” she told him.
He turned his head, kissed her temple, and almost immediately started snoring once more.
Kenna may have thought that she didn’t need a man, but she was wrong.
She needed this man.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face, knowing whatever might come in the future, she would always need Marshall, right by her side.
* * *
A month later, Pid and the rest of the team were tense as they flew in a helicopter toward the American Embassy in Algeria. The country was in the midst of an intense power struggle…the people versus the president, who’d been in power for over twenty years. An unprecedented ten percent of the population had taken to the streets in protest of his continued rule. At first, the protests had been peaceful. Over time, they’d turned more and more violent, and the United States had made the decision to evacuate their representatives until things were more stable.
The saddest part was the number of foreigners who’d made their way to the country to take advantage of the unstable infrastructure. Homes and business were broken into or burned down, and looting was rampant.
“Test, test, test,” Mustang said into his microphone, making sure their radios were working properly.
“Got ya.”
“Loud and clear.”
“Ten-four.”
The rest of the team chimed in, letting their team leader know they could hear him without any issues.
“We’re going to touch down in five. The families are desperate to escape, so we’re gonna have to do our best to keep order. Reassure them that everyone will be evacuated, but there will be several trips and a few different choppers coming and going,” Mustang said.
Pid nodded along with the rest of his team. He knew the plan, they’d gone over it several times, along with contingency scenarios. They were SEALs; having a backup plan for their backup plan was what they did. They’d all studied the maps of the area around the embassy and they knew where to meet up if they got separated.
Four minutes and forty-three seconds later, the chopper touched down on the landing pad on the roof of the embassy.
Pid and his teammates quickly exited the helo and made their way to the group of men, women, and children huddled near the stairwell.
Mustang took the lead and spoke to the group, explaining how many people would be going in this first trip. Pid and Midas checked IDs to make sure they were only taking American citizens. That was one of the hardest parts of the job; many times they’d had to turn away friends and loved ones of the Americans they were rescuing because there simply was no room for everyone, not to mention they didn’t have the proper paperwork to get them out of the country.
Ten people would be leaving on the first chopper. Pid checked the IDs of the middle-aged ambassador and his wife as they waited to board. She had two little boys huddled against her sides, and they all looked terrified. Pid did his best to smile reassuringly at the children, but he’d never been that great with kids, and they merely stared at him and hugged their mother tighter.
Pid turned toward the next person in line when he felt a tug on his belt. Looking down, he saw one of the little boys—the older one, he guessed—standing next to him.
